Graydon Manor
by Gabriels.Mourning
Summary: Dick and Babs have been going along in their own little bubble and not making waves. But it's Barbara's birthday, and he wants to do something special. It's TIME he did something special. A weekend away. Rated M because, well, there's angsty language and quite a lot of "physical expression of an emotional sensation."


Graydon Manor

"I swear, the washing machine is either a portal to another dimension or it's eating my clothing…. I think it's in a conspiracy with my walk-in. Roll-in. Clothes cupboard thing." Barbara Gordon frowned again, rifling through her drawers in increasing panic. She'd been searching for twenty minutes. She began to mutter beneath her breath again and Dinah's blonde, perfect hair sashayed around the corner with one perfect eyebrow tilted.

"What's wrong, hun? Pre-birthday blues?" Barbara took a deep breath and straightened in her chair, hearing the well worn leather creak for a moment in alarm as she counted to 5 and breathed out slowly. She wasn't at "count to ten" level yet, but she was close.

"My dress is missing," she bit off, trying and failing for civility.

Dinah frowned and looked at the low hanging bars, filled with clothes of all sorts.

"I get the feeling you mean a specific one…" Barbara's shoulders bunched for a moment.

"Yes. The blue and black one. The dress. It's blue and black," she intoned repeatedly, as though that should be meaningful enough. Dinah pursed her lips behind her friend's back and took a breath, frowning for her part, in apparent confusion.

"Yes, Dinah, it's black and blue and racy and it's Dick's favourite. I want to get it out because he'll be by tomorrow. We haven't spent a lot of time together lately, and even though it's not like we're married, he's been trying, so… least I can do is wear his favourite dress." Dinah looked crestfallen for just a split second, but it was the one second that Barbara happened to look in the full length mirror at her friend. She slowly closed the drawer and wheeled around to face Dinah, who's features had settled into a very poor imitation of blankness. They locked eyes for a spare moment, and Barbara waited. Dinah didn't blink, which was her tell. "What…?"

"Dicks in Russia," Dinah blurted, wincing as she looked at her friend. Barbara's eyes revealed nothing behind her glasses, but her arms crossed in front of her and she blinked a millisecond slower than usual.

"I see," she said, slowly, not taking her eyes of Dinah, who winced again, then moved forwards, standing in front of her. Her own arms crossed in front of her and she moved from side to side, uncomfortably.

"Nyssa Raatko is alive. Dick and Tim have been dispatched to escort her to the states before Ra's…" she trailed off as Barbara looked down and to the side, her red silken tresses falling in front of her face. "I get it, you don't… look, Barb, I…" She slumped her shoulders and closed her eyes in defeat at being the messenger, looking down from Barbara's obviously hurt form.

"The mission comes first. I get it. The mission always comes first." Her cold, icy calm settled about her like a shawl of misery, and Dinah shook her head slowly, acknowledging that she saw that pain, and admitting there was little she could do.

There was a sudden buzz from the computer screen, and Barbara moved passed her friend and out from the uncomfortable feelings that were gathering around her.

"Oracle here," she deadpanned through clenched teeth. There was a pause and then a monitor flickered up. Bruce Wayne's stern features came into focus expectantly, and then looked away, towards the door. A sudden flash of irritation spread through Barbara like wildfire, and she clenched her jaw harder, feeling the muscles strain in her cheeks. But as much as it pained her; the mission, as she'd said, always came first. It was what they did. They buried their feelings and got on with things. She keyed in the passcode and Bruce keyed in his corresponding code, and the door opened. Dinah moved forward to speak to him quietly, but he brushed her aside and moved straight to Barbara's ramp, moving up to her office as she quickly opened up several news screens around her. Bruce's eyes sought hers and she lowered her lashes, the colour in her cheeks fading away slightly as she forcibly unclenched her jaw, and resolutely nodded to him in acknowledgement of his presence, then turned back to her ever busy screens.

"Bruce. An unusual visit. What's the occasion?" His cold eyes moved back to Dinah, who was staring up the ramp at them with her arms by her sides. They stared at one another for a moment, and then he turned back to her.

"Dinah is at good as keeping things quiet as Ollie is. Maybe it's a family trait. Irrespective, you should know that Richard only went because I made him. It's not a chance we can take and I needed my best on it. Nyssa has information that can break the League of Assassins and she reached out to me for help. I'm not about to turn that opportunity or request away and I know that you wouldn't either." Barbara didn't turn from the monitors, but nodded, almost as if to herself.

"I know, Bruce. That's an important lead. And it's what we do. The mission comes first." He nodded once, then turned back to look out over the mezzanine's level at the Gotham skyline.

"With that in mind and with my responsibilities with the Justice League keeping me occupied for the moment, I'm stretched thin. Ordinarily I wouldn't waste you on a field mission, but as I'm tapping every available resource, I'm running out of options. A temporary way station has been set up outside of Gotham. There's hardware there for a surveillance station. I need the software set up and I can't take the time off there to do it myself because I'm going to need to coordinate things from the Batcave. To that end, I'm going to tap in to the Oracle systems to back up the overwatch, with your permission, while you coordinate with me from the way station, where Tim will be set up once Nyssa is back in Gotham. As I said, I wouldn't ordinarily waste you on a field mission, but I can take over for you while we're setting up and you're better at it than I am. I know you've had a late night, but I'm asking for your help." Alarm bells went off for a second in her head, but her mouth caught up with it only marginally for once. Bruce only rarely, if ever asked for help; he never paid compliments so straight forward and offhand. She blinked rapidly and furiously at the idea that a simple compliment like that could mean so much to her coming from someone like Bruce, but she ducked her head and nodded. Bruce turned away then turned back, satisfied that he had mentally checked another box off.

"The address is a bit far out of the way east of Gotham, but I've sent a map on your PDA that should lead you to it. It's the only house on that road, I needed some privacy because of the level of equipment being trucked in. Oh, and Barbara…?" She turned to him and tried very hard to keep her face straight at the sudden soft look in his eye as he surveyed her techno-world that she'd built around herself after her shooting. It many ways, it was her own Batcave. But with drapes.

"You're shut in. I'm also asking you this because you need to get out. I say this as your… friend," he said, struggling slightly with the word, knowing it was inadequate. They were partners. Equals on a professional level and in many ways he was as much a father to her as her own; Barbara Gordon might be Jim Gordon's little girl, but Batgirl and Oracle were a different matter entirely. "Getting out is important. Connecting, is important. I won't let you follow the same path that I have…I…" She watched him for a long moment until he reached into his pocket and brought out a key. "It's been retrofitted for your capabilities. If there's anything you need changed, let me know. It's… I don't know about the colour, but that's up to you." She didn't respond for a second, then it clicked. Her green eyes widened and her mouth parted in an instant of surprise that rocked her control as she looked at the key in his hand.

"You bought me a car." The corner of his mouth twitched, which for Bruce was the equivalent of a Cheshire Cat style grin. He held up the key and studied the buttons.

"This side is the alarm and remote unlock. If you press and hold that whole button for three seconds, a panic alarm will sound, and be routed to the Batcave as well as the local police. Your father insisted on the panic alarm, and I couldn't agree more. That being said, beneath the arm rests are a pair of electrified eskrima sticks in that style you favour, just in case, and they can slide down the back of your wheelchair for easy access. They were a present from Tim, before they left. As for this side," he continued, turning the key over to show her the diagram of a car spread out on the black tab of the key. "The top two are door sides, on the diagram; you click which one you want to open. It's pre-programmed so that it will navigate your wheelchair to the driver's seat, and then a passenger seat will come up on the other side. Press and hold will close the door, otherwise, a click will open it down with a lift plate; they're gull wing doors for slightly easier access. Bottom button is to open the trunk; middle will pop the gas cap. Oh, careful with the gas, Alfred got his hands into the engine, so it's kicks like a Nascar. He also sends his regards." His lip twitched again. "I understand that your independence is vastly important to you. I trust you'll consider this to be an increase in independence, and not a gesture of anything other than admiration." She was open mouthed for a moment and he reached down and placed the key on her desk, then kissed her on the cheek. He stared into her eyes for a moment, and just for that split second, the hard edge of Batman slipped into the suppressed warmth of Bruce Wayne and his lip twitched again. "Happy Birthday, Barbara."

She'd lost her MP3 player somewhere (her desk a likely third culprit in the dryer/wardrobe conspiracy circle), but a quick peruse of the songs already stored in the sound system brought a smile to her face. Almost all her favourites, at least, the songs she played when she was working out, or happy or just wanted to escape for a little while. No relaxation music though. That was the only problem with any of the day. The car was a combination of bright orange and lines of red, with thick black lines across it. It reminded her of her hair in the sunlight, which wasn't something that was seen very much these days. The Wayne Industries logo on the front was highlighted in black and red and everything worked perfectly. Everything was set out for her needs and well in reach, although with the buttons and dials everywhere in front of her spread out, it did look somewhat like an aircraft dashboard. It was even convertible, though it looked like a scalloped jeep. There was room in the back with two seats and a huge trunk space, but Barbara for the moment was simply enjoying the sensation of the wind in her hair, the sun on her face and for a split second, she could feel like Batgirl again. The car showed four distinct fingerprints. Bruce's fastidious attention to detail in the position of the dials and buttons, perfect for a car chase or a business trip and Alfred's secret desire to create the world's fastest and fuel efficient beast of a Prius were both in plain sight. The gadgets on the steering wheel center and to the right of the wheel spoke plainly of Tim's technology bug. Deeper though, she could see her Boy Wonder, in a much sneakier contribution to the family buying her a car; he'd gone from a Wayne Industries pet project for the modern handicapped traveller and made it hers. The colour was just like her hair. The black lines were at once non-descript and yet also starkly reminiscent of the costume he wore. The lavender oil-soaked sandalwood rings that rested in the console beside her. The scent was her favourite. The music on the system was his doing, she somehow knew. It was as if Bruce and Alfred and Tim had taken a vehicle and created it to suit her, and then Dick had made it hers. With effortless attention to her details, he'd made the car her own. His birthday gift to her.

There was really something special about him, she mused, though she'd never admit it to him. There was something about they way that he carried himself, the boy that she'd turned into a man and fallen so heavily for in the process. He'd tried to so very hard to be there for her after she'd been shot. Her good mood began to evaporate. She hadn't been shot, she'd been paralysed. She'd been made a paraplegic. It wasn't as if she was able to recover. For a brief moment, her chest tightened when she recalled what it was like to fly through the air on a rope and have the world fall away beneath you. To be made to walk and yet conquer the skies above to fly was something she'd always found as an immense joy. That was where her relationships had differed between Bruce and Dick. In Bruce she'd found the drive and force of will and intellect that matched her own in fighting crime, both before and after her shooting. Though no less devoted to Batman's cause of Justice, Dick had still loved, truly loved, the freedom that his acrobatics brought him. He revelled in his body's abilities and capabilities, whereas Batman merely used his body as one of an arsenal of tools to fight crime. Batman never took any joy in life, only satisfaction. Barbara felt sorry for him for that. But she was jealous of Dick's freedom. And in awe of it. The freedom, the pleasure, the pure unadulterated joy that he found in his body's movement was something she envied, and yet compartmentalized. That was the difference between them, and what kept them at a distance, even after all these years. Deep inside, Barbara knew that Dick wouldn't have survived a shooting like that. Cutting off his body would have broken him. But out of the ashes of Batwoman, Oracle had arisen. Just as strong, and even more fierce. Her hands gripped the steering wheel hard as she steadied herself defiantly. No room for pity. No victims here. It's the mission that matters, she silently reinforced to herself. And you still have your part to play. That was what it was like lately, she internalized. One moment she was full of busy self-determined purpose and focus, then the next, when she'd stopped for a moment came that rush of longing. Her depression was fought away by the fight she fought, yet it was strong, too. Lately, more so. Dick had been in her thoughts so often that it was almost distracting her. No, it WAS distracting her. In her darkest moments, Barbara's fear whispered to her that she should break up with him and find someone broken like she was so that he couldn't get away. Dick was far too available to everyone else; the perfect body, the playboy grin, and the hero in tights. She needed someone else, someone that wouldn't eventually just get tired of the white knight routine of staying with someone and pretending that them being broken didn't matter.

"Left Turn, Ahead," came a thick British accent through the speakers. Shaking herself back into the present, Barbara slowed down slightly as she continued on the road, coming up to a single road marker which read "Miller's Road. Danger. 4WD ONLY" She turned off dutifully and made her way down the road for about two miles, until the black road beneath her turned to gravel and dust, crossing several streams and creek beds.

"Destination Ahead. Graydon Manner. 5.3 Miles." The voice went silent as the car navigated two shallow fjords and began a winding uphill drive. About half way up the mountain, the road twisted back on itself and led to a single, huge gate, against the sheer cliff. She could see the epic view of the valley beneath her stretching out to the forests, In the far distance, she could see the haze of Gotham as no more than a darkening on the horizon, with a small patch of blue on the horizon line, being the ocean. A small beep sounded, and a keypad with a speaker on it rose from the ground from behind a rock. She punched in her code for the Clocktower and a small beep sounded. The speaker came online and she looked over her glasses at it glaringly. It was second rate technology, she thought, eyeing the small black strip on the bottom.

"Hello? Avon calling…"

"Retinal scan complete. Facial recognition scan complete. Voice analysis complete. Welcome, Oracle. You do not appear to be under stress. Would you like me to open the gate for you?" A pleasant male voice sounded from the box, but it wasn't anyone she knew. Just a recording. But it was a bit strange to Barbara that Batman had gone to the trouble of setting up the hardware and software for the gate, but not for the rest of the complex.

"Yes." The gates lifted up like angels wings, allowing the car to drive through then locking securely behind her. The road crested around behind a line of trees, and then Barbara felt her breath being taken away.

The grounds were immaculate, with bright, clean sandstone and dark hewn marble dotting here and there through the grass around a huge centrepiece which served as a roundabout for the road. A statue of a beautiful, long haired Greek maiden grew from out of the centre of a huge planting of roses, interlaced with lavender. The purples and reds seemed to compliment one another, somehow, and it was so beautiful that Barbara stopped to stare. The road continued up into a huge carport, which was attached to an incredibly beautiful home. As she pulled up into the carport, Barbara mused that the place were only a few steps shy of a mansion. It was huge, but beautiful, with dark stained wood panelling which seemed right at home in the depth of the forest that surrounded it. The roof curved like the hull of a boat, setting the multi stories back into the mountain face but not detracting from it, as though it had simply always been there, and always would be. Before she could drink in any more of it, she reached forward and switched the engine off. The door opened up beside her and a figure materialised in front of her, coming out with a smile on his perfect, mischievous features. Even as she stared at him, Barbara thought that there was a lot to be said for the perfect people in her life, like they were all models and then Dick Grayson bit his bottom lip then let out a low laugh of satisfaction at the shock on her face. He opened the door and she wordlessly held him for a moment, until he moved his head to the side and kissed at her nose playfully. Barbara shook her head. "Hey Babs," he drawled at her, and she rose an eyebrow at him.

"Russia?" He shrugged nonchalantly, but she could tell that he was pleased his deception had worked.

"It's your birthday. I don't miss it. This year, because it's on a Friday, I told Bruce we were taking the weekend off, and that you deserved a weekend away and that if he decided he couldn't live without you for one weekend, then he needed to call some of his buddies in the Justice League to go and babysit him." She gave a low laugh as their foreheads touched and felt a hard crush in her chest as she tried hard not to cry.

"He did say you were upset and didn't want to go to Russia…" Her lover laughed and leant back, though not before he brushed his lips against her forehead and breathed in deeply of the scent of her hair. Which Barbara belatedly realised was everywhere from having the top down. She reached up to tuck it away but he caught her hand in his and held her.

"Don't worry at it. You're perfect," he whispered to her, his voice dropping lower and hungrier as he stared at her. He swallowed and kissed her again, a soft, tender touch of lips that had her breathing suddenly change, then leant back and kissed her fingertips. He pushed a button on the side of the wheel interlock system that kept her behind the steering wheel and the hydraulics hissed and began to manoeuvre her out of her car like something out of a sci-fi movie. Without letting go of her fingers, he leant back and moved, letting her lower to the ground, then kissing her fingertips again, setting them to tingling and releasing butterflies into her chest with his lips and eyes. Barbara cleared her throat and rolled off the lift, then hit the locking button. She ran her fingers through her hair distractedly and glared at him, or tried to, through her smile as the lift rose and the gull wing door lowered again. He was dressed simply, in worn jeans that she'd washed a hundred times or more, and a new shirt that was clean and smelled of him. It had Superman shield on it in red, which she found amusing for no real reason, seeing as he looked so different from Superboy or man, both of whom lacked his playful side.

"Okay. So everyone decided to play a trick on me, but for a good reason. Everyone was in on it I take it? There is no Russian reason, is there? Everyone, even Bruce…" She sighed for a moment, then smiled at him, hiding away the feelings she wasn't quite prepared to deal with. "Dick, what is this place?"

"It's Graydon Manor," he smiled expansively, spreading his arms. His distractingly toned and perfect arms, she noted again. "Gorson didn't have the right ring to it. This is me and you, Babs. This is our place. I built us a place. Away from everyone. Just for you and me." She rolled up the ramp to the doorway and he stopped her with an outstretched hand. She took it and he shifted his grip as he knelt down on one knee in front of her. For one terrifying moment, her heart leapt and she gasped but he smiled and kissed the back of her hand and then held it against his face, his fingers curling over hers.

"This weekend is for you, Babs. This house is for us. Let me show you what I mean by you and me in here." He stepped back and threw his arms out again, and this time her betraying eyes caught the sight of his muscles through the tight cotton. Irritably, she rolled herself through the door as he began the tour. It wasn't right, she thought. She was still supposed to be mad at him for keeping secrets, and enlisting all her friends in on it, too. But that smile and the way he looked at her made her body betray her. She felt herself getting hotter and swallowed a breath of the cool mountain air to calm herself.

She looked around.

The first thing she noted was that the building was three split levels, with a huge mezzanine floor that obviously looked down over the rooms and contained a fireplace and bedroom. There was what looked to be a glass walled ensuite bathroom, which dropped down to the second level as well, above the kitchen. The floors were all gently twisting or rolling wooden planks, lending themselves to wheelchair access while not taking anything away from the space and seemingly blending in, not standing out. There was a wheelchair ramp from the lower section, which was lower than the balcony and faced a wide couch and a fireplace that was ironed off with an ornate scene featuring the woman from the garden out front, sitting on a throne and having worshippers. The fireplace wasn't lit as yet, but had a mound of rugs in front of it, and a small coffee table. There didn't look to be a computer screen or television in sight. The kitchen from her first glance was massive and widely spread, perfect for someone with height disadvantages, like being wheelchair bound. Fresh fruit and veg hung from a small scaffold above the centre bench, and this led to the dining area. There were scarce chairs about, and everywhere she looked, Barbara was greeted with the sight of slight inclines and no stairs. In the corner to her left was a wide square mattress cut into the floor with beanbags and blankets and pillows, with book shelves built into the floor, spines facing up. Everywhere she looked, too, came other telltale signs; clips in the floor to steady her wheelchair next to the table and couches. Barbara's eyes began to fill and she crossed her arms as Dick closed the door behind her, then leant down and hugged her from behind, kissing her softly on the cheek and holding her to him over the shoulders of the chair.

"Leading out from the kitchen is a cunning little door that slides open at the touch of a button. It takes us out to the first stage of a creek that's been purpose build around and below and above the house. It takes about five minutes for the water to start running, so yeah. There's a line haul that's a bitch to maintain all the way up the mountain, sort of like doing pull ups when you've got a gorilla on your feet, but you're tough as nails, I'm sure you'll be fine. There's a gym down below, but I'm still working on an elevator to be wheelchair capable seeing as for some reason, they thought it was a huge dumbwaiter when they were building it. In the meantime, there's a rung pole attached to the inside of that cupboard over there that will take you down, and a net below that, which is kinda fun to just drop and free fall. But the gym course is a little intense for me; you on the other hand might need to change up a bit, but that's what the white water is for." He kissed her again and then stood up, and made his way into the kitchen, one level up. "For now, well, why don't you explore everything as you like? See our house…"

Barbara took a deep breath and wheeled herself around while he prepared lunch. The floors were a beautifully light polished wood which dipped and swayed in a continuous light roll, like grassless hills. It dipped down into a small sitting couch and then moved away up to the second floor. The house was somewhat plain and unadorned, but there seemed to be something utterly complete about it, too. The dining room looked out over the bottom level, showing at the back a huge wall of pictures with a sloping ramp from one corner to the next, leading up the top. The kitchen gave way to a small laundry, with a lifting rung to could hook onto the wheelchair and lift it up to the next level as well. She rolled past Dick, who was surreptitiously eyeing her perusal with more than a vested interest. There was a nervous edge to him as he quickly chopped up some of the fresh fruit and veg that had been hanging from the high store above the middle bench. Barbara moved back past him and out the door, not letting him see how much she was loving the design, which made the house liveable and navigable for someone in a wheelchair without drawing attention to it. Everywhere was filled with fresh plants and scented oils, making the place seem modern and yet wild all at once. Finally, she moved from the dining room to the bedroom up the top. The house was built in what seemed like an old viking style, pointing almost like a pyramid as it slid back into the face of the mountain, making the top room the smallest and most intimate. There was only a thin strip of window on one side showing the light, and a row of candles on the far left wall. In the corner was a fireplace, with another iron guard displaying a woman sitting on a throne, talking to a warrior. The Oracle at Delphi, she suddenly realized with a catch. Her eyes moved to the right side of the bed, her side, and she could see a brace for the wheelchair and a straight rail leading into the bathroom. She moved inside and stared, seeing tinted or one way glass showing the side of the property, back down over the entry road, and it was a window right in front of a huge spa, with a long area for lying down and a pillowed headrest. The spa was strange, in a P shape with a very deep section in the centre, right behind the headrest. Where a person could stand, behind the headrest and only just be over the rim. In a flash, she realised that it would be perfect for a massage, as the deep area surrounded the island of the bed, before moving to the moulded seating in the depths of the spa, to look out over the forested valley. Barbara took a deep breath, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. He'd made them a house. He'd designed it specifically with both of them in mind. He was insane. She was broken; she was a good member of the team, of course, but it wasn't as if she was his one and only, one true love or his wife, this was incredible, it was such a stupid…

"Hey you," came his soft voice from behind her. Dick pretended not to see the quick, angry dashing of her tears. He irritated her sometimes. It was like a perfect practical joke that wouldn't ever work out, because he was perfect and she was broken. It worked between them only because neither of them was taking it further than what it was; a deep and abiding affection based on the understanding that she used to be Batgirl and now she was Oracle. He was Nightwing, someone more heroic in his own way than Batman ever would be, and someone that would spend the rest of their lives chained down to the wrong woman because they were too stupidly honourable to leave and because they got their rocks off protecting people. Well, Barbara Gordon didn't need protection. She'd return the car, and wouldn't come back here again, and they could shove their sanctimonious…

"Hey, Babs…" And with the eyes, why with the eyes? Lost, hurt puppy-dog eyes, she thought, staring at him through her red tresses from behind her glasses. He knelt down and reached out for her, touching her on her knee when he knew she didn't like people touching her legs. Her useless, dead legs. "Don't you like it?" Barbara took a deep breath and closed down everything she was feeling, because she was tired and sore and really just feeling old. She took another deep breath and smiled at him through her whirlwind of emotions.

"It's wonderful. It's really, really nice, Dick. You've made a beautiful home." Her throat ached suddenly in a thick swallow and then the tears came as everything cracked down on her veneer of control. She reached out to him with her arms and he came forward, holding her tightly as she felt everything crashing in around her. They held one another for heartbeats and then she breathed out slowly, feeling her chest spread and fill with air. She let him go and sat back in her chair and took another deep breath, steadying herself.

"Dick, I want you to do something for me. I want you to give me just a second to get a hold of myself. It's been a long drive and this is about as overwhelming as it gets. So I'm going to just take a moment, okay? That, and if I don't pee soon, things are going to get very annoying." He gave a low laugh and then did something she always loved him doing. He enveloped her, completely, throwing his arms around her and holding her in close as though she were his very air and kissing her, tasting her lips and crushing her against him in the best of ways. They stayed like that for a second as she felt herself melting and boiling and freezing all over every single inch of skin, then pulled back slowly and kissed the tip of her nose. Barbara licked her lips and swallowed, tasting him in her mouth and feeling lightheaded.

"You got it, Babs. I'll unload the car and grab your prettybag, okay?"

"Toiletries, Grayson. It's a toiletry bag."

"Well, hats off to you, beautiful, because if you dress yourself in toiletries, and still look that good…" She glared at him over her smile and he threw his hands up in mock fear. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving…" He closed the door with a cheeky smile that had her heart fluttering and then heard him whistle and thump as he vaulted the railing and ran to the door. She took several deep breaths, and then looked around further. The basin and sink were on the same wall as the huge window, but down much lower, at wheelchair height. She wheeled around and stared at the shower door, but a green button on the side lifted it straight up into the ceiling, revealing a grated bench of metal poles. Manoeuvring herself off the chair and into the shower, Barbara turned on the hot water and the instant steam powered up. She laughed lowly to herself and turned the cold on lightly, as she was much happier with molten water. The steam filled the cubicle, and Barbara noted that there were two recesses, one filled with the cheap fruit scented shampoo that Dick favoured, and a lower one that was filled with the top of the line hair care products that Dinah had suckered her into favouring. After about half an hour, she heard the bathroom door open and then close momentarily after. Deciding that no matter how good the shower felt, and it felt pretty damned good, she would be pruney afterward, Barbara turned the faucets off and opened the door with another touch of a green button on the side of the frosted glass. It hissed back into it's recess and sitting there on her wheelchair just outside was a thick, dark green bathrobe and both her make up bag and toiletry bag. She smiled at his impractical thoughtfulness and heaved the bags off the seat to get the robe. Pushing her arms through and rocking herself into the fluffy folds, Barbara moved her glasses to the basin and began to dry her hair once she was on her wheelchair again.

"Calm, Babs," she counselled herself. "You've faced down psychotic killers and deranged everything's with the same kickass attitude that's got you this far through everything. A weekend away with a guy isn't…" Then it hit her. Wasn't something she'd ever done before, at any stage in her life. That's why things were affecting her so much. Dick, and everything he'd done for her, had instilled in her the absolute terror of freefalling in her feelings. This wasn't just a casual thing kept going anymore. Dick was committing. And the idea terrified her, because she still, deep down, expected to see that pity or sadness in his eyes when he looked at her legs. Barbara fought that feeling down until it was a tight knot inside of her and looked in the mirror. Her wet hair curled prettily down the sides of her face. She was still in good shape, kept there by rigorous exercise that was more intense in many ways than Dick's, just as he'd said. There was plenty to be attracted to her about. Why was she being like this…? For so long, she'd kept Dick at arms length for the stupidest of reasons, that he was amazing and would get bored of her or she was older, or anything else. But he'd just really made things harder. He was showing her, if not outright telling her, that he was ready. The issue was that she didn't know if she was ready. But that was blown out of the water if she was honest with herself. The issue was that she didn't know if he'd stay in love with her, or if she was good enough anymore. Relationships were about equals. And they just weren't equal. And she was so in love with him that everything hurt and burned and was filled with bright light when they were together.

The door shadowed as Dick knocked softly with one knuckle, and, as if he could read her emotions, didn't speak for a moment, and didn't enter.

"Yes…?" she answered, hesitantly. Again, he didn't enter, but stayed on the other side, granting her the privacy she'd asked him.

"I've bought your clothing up, Babs. Your bag is on the bed, okay? Lunch is ready and I'll wait downstairs for you." She took a breath and opened the door for him, ready to smile and pretend everything was fine. But that went away when she looked at him. It wasn't his body, his looks, not even the way his lip twitched in the same way Batman's did, but only as a precursor to that smile that could sway a thousand skirt lines. It was the way he was looking at her. There was something else about it, something hungry. Barbara moved out of the bathroom and pushed him back, pulling her bag off the bed and moving herself up onto it, folding the robe around her. The house was beginning to heat up more, though if he had a central heating system on or it was the afternoon sun, she didn't know. Barbara laid down on the bed and reached out for him. Dick laid down next to her, his hands moving the pillows against her still damp hair and moving across the face to come in closer to her.

"Right now, I just want to be close to you, okay?" He nodded, and reached out, holding her hands in his and kissing her fingertips in that silly way that somehow still had her stomach backflipping. She folded his hands in with hers and kidded at his palms, feeling her chest hurting again from the feelings that he was rushing through her.

"Then for now, lets just be close. Be you and me and close." He smiled at her and she shook her head. He was beautiful, totally and completely, annoyingly beautiful. She closed her eyes and snuggled in closer.

When she slowly opened her eyes, Barbara noted first that the house was dark. The fire was out, but there was still a little bit of light left coming in through the huge class wall at the bottom floor. She stretched and felt her body relaxed and happy. It was always this way, even when they didn't make love, she mused to herself. Beside her, Dick rolled over in his sleep and touched at her stomach and murmured unintelligently. He needed a haircut. His hair was thick and long and had that blue black sheen to it, but it was always too long. It was across his face, and her fingers were reaching for it even before she could stop herself, moving it out of his face. His eyes flickered and he took a sudden deep breath through his nose and then forced his eyes open and smiled at her as she came into focus. Her smile broadened as he grinned at her in greeting and caught her hand, kissing her palm and tucking her hand into his cheek then laying his head down again.

"Hey."

"Hi"

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah… you know we're likely to be up late tonight now…"

"Hmm…"

He gave a sudden laugh at her naughty thoughts, so plain on her face as she looked at him, and kissed her lightly. Barbara pushed her hand against his face and pulled her hand back, pulling herself up to sitting in the bed against the iron rails of the bed head. The side drawers were tall, designed to be able to be reached from sitting on the bed, with another set just below. There were plain, non-descript comfort clothes like jumpers and track suits. Dick was pulling on a pair of thin pants that could have doubled as pyjama bottoms. He almost jumped off the bed as he pulled them up, and moved around the bed, looking at her and the way she was watching him, the muscles moving under his skin and her teeth catching and her bottom lip as her hungry eyes enjoyed the simplicity of his body. He grinned at her then stumbled and nearly tripped, cursing as he stubbed his toe on her suitcase. Rich laughter burst from her and he frowned at her, rubbing his foot with a mock glare.

"Hungry, are we then?" Colour came and went to her cheeks as she realized she was ravenous, not having eaten since breakfast. She nodded and he lifted the suitcase onto the end of the bed like an open clam, and tilted it towards her. "I'll make some coffee and we can try lunch again, if you like?" She shook her head as she gathered the sheets around herself daintily and leant forward, dragging the suitcase towards her more.

"I want hot chocolate." He looked crestfallen until she threw him a block of chocolate from her hidden stash in the side of her case. "Always, ALWAYS carry emergency chocolate, Boyman Wonder… it'll save your life." He gave a low laugh that somehow bloomed a hot flush across her cheeks and then walked down the ramp to the second floor, and the kitchen. Barbara heard pots and pans being moved and then the fridge opened as she brushed her hair, curled a bit from drying damp. She sighed then winced at the smell of her breath and grabbed Dick's discarded shirt from the floor and threw it on. The Bludhaven PD shirt reached below her hips and afforded her some modesty but Dick's traps were significantly thicker than hers, and it was loose about her shoulders. A wicked gleam came into her eyes as she raked her fingers through her hair and moved it to one side, leaving her bare shoulder visible. The bathroom still had her glasses, so she moved to the chair and then wheeled herself in and opened her toiletry bag, finding her toothbrush and some mouthwash and using both quickly. She put her glasses on and checked her eyes. Sighing, she reached into her makeup kit for some remover and ten minutes later, she guided her wheelchair down, satisfied with the minimal makeup she had on and feeling much better about herself. Dick came out of the kitchen with two huge mugs and set hers down beside her. She rolled into the table and locked the wheels then leant forward and took his hand. He smiled at her, but his eyes moved to her shoulder and she arched an eyebrow at him. Caught, he shrugged, his smile morphing into that grin she loved.

"So," he monotoned as she leant forward a bit, daring him to stare again and biting her lip with a laugh when he did. He raised an eyebrow at her in mock reproach then licked his lips and suddenly the conversation was heading in another direction entirely. Barbara sipped her hot chocolate and tasted the swirl of the rich chocolate covered her tongue. She leaned her head to the side and Dick cleared his throat, suddenly very concerned with his mug, and a thrilling rush came through her at her affect on him.

"So," he tried again, refusing to look at her. "What would you like to do this evening?"

"What are our options, Blue Bird?"

"Well, it's a bit dark for the white water, I don't have any lights set up, and I'm beginning to realise that I should maybe have waited until Christmas for this, when everything was finished, ha ha." She smiled at him again and shrugged, drawing her eyes and biting her lip as she laughed internally at him. Her fingers twirled around a strand of her hair and played with it.

"So that's out, but it's definitely in for tomorrow morning. I really want to try that. I like the idea of just relaxing together for a bit. Maybe we could talk…?" He frowned at her, but he was still smiling.

"Who in the world knows me better than you?" In front of her was a huge platter of fruit and cheese and buttered bread, which was slightly stale, but still edible. The lunch that they'd never got around to having. She grabbed a piece of cheese and some ham and laid it on a square of bread, then grabbed a strawberry. The strawberries, she noted, were on her side, piled high so she could demolish them quickly. They were warm after sitting unrefrigerated for so long, but still good, washing away the stickiness of the bread and cheese with tangy freshness.

"I just want to talk to you, I think. Get in your head a bit." He laughed and bit into an apple slice, brown from the air but it didn't seem to bother him.

"Again, who in the world…" she smiled and shrugged, and they ate the rest in silence. Dick took the plate and mugs into the kitchen as Barbara rolled down the next level and toward the library bed. Moving off the chair, and then onto the couch, she tucked her legs up under her and then rolled forward so she could read the titles. They were in no order, just size, which she found infuriating and somehow cute at the same time. The books were protected by a sheet of clear plastic that slid back into the floor, and she took out a copy of White Fang, her fingers running over the ornate lettering and then looked up as she heard a chink of glass. Dick slumped down seemingly gracelessly beside her, but the glasses in his hand and the wine in them didn't spill. The dark red liquid only moved slightly and she leant back onto her side and took the offered glass and toasted him. He took a mouthful and then eyed the book in her hand. She smiled and put it back, slotting it into the hole and then arching an eyebrow as she looked back to him pretending not to look at her rear. The thrill of knowing what he was looking at was still there, she thought. But she had to move this beyond it. She really wanted this to be different, this weekend. Something special. And while there was no person in the world she'd rather share her first weekend away with, something about it was special, and she didn't want it to just be about sex. No matter how amazing sex with her favourite acrobat generally tended to be. A sudden image of Dick in his flying Grayson's outfit doing a quadruple summersault off the end of the bed into her waiting arms had her coughing and struggling for a moment. She rolled onto her stomach and put the wine out of reach while she swallowed and tried to regain her composure. Dick quickly put his wine near hers and then touched her back, concern in his eyes above his confused smile. She waved him off and shook her head, clearing her throat after a moment.

"SO… um… OK." She shook her head again and took a deep breath as Dick rubbed her back, his hand slowly making circles palm down. "If you could do anything other than be Nightwing, what would you do? Give me five things… go." Dick sat back as she touched her throat, then pulled a cushion under her chest and laid her head down on it, watching him consider.

"A cop, I guess, is the first thing that springs to mind. Naturally," he smirked, eyeing the top she wore, which privately Dick thought would be the absolute end of him if she didn't take it off soon. He always loved it when she showed her shoulders. Only to him, but always loved it. And for some reason there was something about it being only one shoulder. As amazing as she looked in singlets and bikini tops, there was something more intoxicating about her in something off the shoulder. She eyed him over the rims of her glasses again and he rolled his eyes, busted at staring at her again. But as much as she loved to tell him off, he knew how much she liked his eyes on her. He shook his head, trying to concentrate.

"Race driver or stunt driver. Stuntman, actually, would work well." She held up four fingers and wiggled them at him encouragingly. He shrugged again and looked away from her for a moment.

"Teacher," he blurted suddenly. He ran a hand up the back of his head and through his hair, self consciously. "I'd have liked to be a teacher, too." Barbara considered that and then laid her head down on the cushion again.

"You'd have made a good teacher." He smiled to himself and laid down beside her, on his back, open to her touch.

"I like to think there's still time. I don't want to spend the rest of my life doing this, but I still liked teaching as a job, you know?" She nodded and he grinned suddenly. "Besides, I've got a thing for librarians, so being a teacher would go better like that…" She gave a laugh and hit his chest, then rested her hand there and tapped her fingers on his bare skin.

"I'd like to be a librarian full-time. Or a doctor, you know, someone still working to the betterment of society, but not surgery wise. Like research. I like research." Dick held her hand and moved two of her fingers up, counting off her professions. "A musician, or something like that, artsy… I could do artsy. Something creative." He rose an eye at her and then leant back his head into the crook of his arm, and she distracted wondered why that seemed so inviting to her.

"Not something in IT? You make most systems sit up and beg faster than Wally's feet…" She shook her head, feeling her hair brush across the back of her neck.

"Nah, it's not what I use it for. It's just another weapon in the fight." He nodded slowly and then looked away, back up at the other floors.

"Maybe that's something you need to think about. I mean, you don't do much on the creative side. You don't do much in the way of downtime, Babs… Unwinding is important. You can't feed it all into working out in your gym." She scraped her fingernails across the skin and then spread her hand wide, feeling the muscles underneath and they way they played under her touch.

"What about you, what's your creative outlet, if that's what you mean?" He nodded and tilted his head to her in acknowledgement.

"Yeah, creative outlet. Exactly. Mine would be…" he stretched and shuffled closer to her. Barbara leant against him, her face inches from his. "Coming up with new and interesting ways to piss you off is always a good one." She laughed again and hit him lightly on the chest.

"You should have a PhD in that by now…" He laughed lowly under her and then looked away.

"I love freerunning, eskrima. I find they're really creative if you get into them. On the other note, I'm learning to cook. That's about as creative as you get."

"You're idea of cooking is cutting up fruit. Or opening a packet of chips. Twinkies aren't supposed to be a food group, you know?" He shrugged but curiously didn't say anything, and then Barbara poked him again, tapping a nail on his solid pecs. "You're really learning, aren't you? Why? You're never anywhere long enough to settle down and cook a full meal…" He rolled his head over and stared at her, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her open lips.

"I'm here. Now. And I want to cook for you. Is that so bad?" She stared at him then, and crooked a smile at him as she tilted her head towards him.

"No, of course not. I love that you want to cook for me." He shook his head slightly, and that flash in his eyes wasn't hunger.

"I'm not cooking for you. I'm cooking for us. I'm going to eat it too, you know…" he rebuked with a smile. Barbara tilted her head in and kissed him lightly, tentatively on the lips as though it were their first time. Dick's free hand strayed to his chest, where his arm brushed her breasts and then he was holding her fingers, interlacing them with his. The kiss deepened slowly, until he was pulling her on top of him, resting his hands on her rump and moving across the lace and then under his shirt. Barbara opened herself up to him, closing her eyes and simply enjoying his kiss, distractedly moving her glasses away from them and then rolling over, pulling him on top of her. His hands were suddenly up under her top and trailing fire across her skin, and she arched towards him, moving her shoulders and kissing him further still as the distance between them was suddenly too great. The shirt rode up between them, and he pulled back only long enough to let her pull the shirt off and fling it from them, even as her hands went down to the rim of his pant, easing him out of them towards her as he gasped against her kissing lips. She smiled knowingly at him as she moved her hands up and down him, watching him. The fire in his eyes intensified as he stared at her while they kissed, and then he was spreading her legs around him and moving inside of her. His eyes glazed over for a heartbeat as she enveloped him, and then he was kissing at her again, focussing on her pleasure even at the cost of his own. His hands roved over her back and shoulders, mussing at her hair and losing himself in her. It was an unhurried, uncomplicated movement, between them. They made love as the house darkened, and when they both lay flat against one another, covered in sweat, he leant forward and kissed her. He didn't kiss her like he had when they made love, but a simple kiss of need and enjoyment in her presence. He moved away from her and lit the fire, more for light than warmth. He moved along, naked, lighting the candles that lined the ramp and then making his way back to her as she dragged his pants on to cover her legs and dragged his tee shirt back on again over her mussed hair. Barbara put her glasses back on and drained her forgotten wine glass with a smile. Dick came back, looked at his pants sitting low on her hips and then looked down at himself with a resigned sigh. Barbara laughed at him as he jogged easily back up to the top, and rummaged through his own drawers. His own hair was a tangled mess and she noted with a glimmer of guilt that there were a score of lines over the inside of his shoulder down towards his throat where her fingernails had scraped him. He wore a singlet and his jeans from earlier, and stooped low to pick up his own glass. His stomach rumbled and he drained his glass as she'd done. He was still a spectacle, she though, staring at him, but at least no longer such a distracting one. As if he was reading her thoughts, he grabbed at her glass and came in close, filling her nose with the scent of him and tilting his head, showing off his sex scratch, and the heady scent that was all THEM.

"Catwoman would be proud of you." She gave a scoff and moved past him to the ramp leading to the second level towards the dining setting. She rolled forwards and looked at the small stereo, complete with her MP3 player that she'd "left behind" and wondered what else Dick had stolen from her place with his willing accomplices. He gave her that cheeky smile and she began searching for some dinner music.

"Selina can be proud of whatever she likes. She's still a Janus. Kind of like my other friends in that regard, the sneaky little bitches…" She stretched upwards in her chair, pressing forward slightly and laughing lowly as Dick's eyes wandered downwards to her chest. "Really?" He shrugged and winked at her, then his eyes went to the kitchen table, still with the scraps from lunch, and then lit the three large candles on the table.

"How about I work on some dinner while you think up your next question? We kind of got interrupted." He moved towards the kitchen and Barbara leant back as some spa music began to play, slowing the mood and making it seem surreal. She heard a knife being sharpened and shifted the lunch plate to her lap then moved into the kitchen. She cleaned the scraps off and put the plate in the dishwasher as he began to lightly score a small roast and press salt and garlic and rosemary into the cuts. She gave a sniff as she refilled their wine glasses and grinned at the smell.

"Hope you washed your hands…" she admonished, and he laughed and nodded his head to the antibacterial soap sitting beside the sink faucet.

"Always… So, what about a book, Babs? What would the autobiography of Babs be?" She hadn't told him, but it was something she was working on in her spare time. Or meant to. She'd meant to start. A sudden thought of weekends away here where she could write a journal or memoir was quelled quickly. You don't become a member of the Batfamily and still get spare time. It just didn't happen.

"I know what yours would be." He gave a smirk as he reached up and grabbed down some potatoes and carrots from the fresh food on the scaffolded basket above the bench. For a split second, she wondered how she was supposed to reach it, then remembered that he was learning to cook. She was obviously destined to some mundane meals before he knew what he was doing, because he wasn't letting her to the fresh fruit and veg, apparently. The rosemary was hanging by the window sill, she could at least reach that, she though.

"Mmm…?" he prompted as he filled the tray with the veg then bent low to put it into the oven. Across the kitchen, Barbara took another mouthful of her wine and nodded to herself.

"Lifeline… or something like that." Dick gave a grin as he straightened and brought out two plates and cutlery.

"My Life in Tights…" He laughed then and they shared a moment of locked eyes over the rims of their wine glasses. He saluted her and then left the kitchen, setting up the dining table and looking at his watch. "My Life in Nomex Triple Weave Kevlar doesn't have the same ring to it though…"

She smiled at him again and moved out back towards the table. The candles were burning brightly but slowly, with her soft music setting the mood to romantic by about eleven notches. "Yours would be…"

"Oh, so we're answering one another's now?" He gave a laugh and sat back in his chair, motioning for her to go ahead. She paused for a moment, then shrugged.

"Broken Phoenix." He didn't respond for a moment but his face dropped a bit.

"I don't like it when you talk about yourself like that. You're not broken." They sat there like that for moments until she rolled backwards and heaved herself out of the chair. It was a not so subtle reminder when she moved herself back up to sitting and dragged her legs in front of her. She lifted her arms and he closed his eyes.

"Hey," she prompted. "Helpless maiden here, hero…" Dick scoffed and a little bit of his smile came back.

"You've never been helpless a day in your life."

"This is true," she conceded, but didn't drop her arms. "Then come here anyway."

He laughed again and bowed, coming around the table and picking her up. She leant in and nuzzled his face. "You need a shave, three day growth of Wonder." Barbara nuzzled his face again, feeling the grate of his growth scratch at her skin.

"Maybe after dinner. Is that fine?" He pulled her back and helped her into the chair, then looked at her reproachfully.

"That's hitting below the belt, you know." She nodded and kissed him before letting him go.

"I know, Dick. But you always leave me to do things myself, so every now and again I have to make the point." He shook his head and looked down at the chair as she shifted her legs into the braces.

"Yeah, but I don't see you like that. I never have." His quiet pain drew her gaze, but he was already turning around and heading to the kitchen. She sat there quietly for a long, long time, just listening to the music softly playing behind her. It took her a long time, but eventually, the darkness went away, and she looked up. She rolled to the doorway and looked at Dick, who was busy preparing the dinner. He was moving around the kitchen and his face was a mask of concentration.

"Hey," she said lowly, just trying for his attention. It worked and he turned around, holding a pot with hot water near the stove. The chopping board sat in front of him, with the scraps of veggies still littering the bench top. He smiled at her but didn't say anything. She just stared for a moment, then made up her mind.

"How long?" He looked down at the veggies, then back at the oven.

"Max of say, 30 mins?" She smiled at the last and nodded.

"I'm going to get ready, okay?" He looked blankly at her, then nodded, still uncomprehending.

"Sure. I'll give you a yell, yeah?" She nodded and then moved up to the bedroom and began to rifle through her bag. In the bottom was a black cardboard bag with a note.

"love from Dinah… yeah, I'm a bitch, but you deserve it, hun. Enjoy." Suddenly blushing, she opened the bag and smiled.

Dick took the edge of the tea towel and wiped the rim of the plate clean, surveying his handiwork. The lamb cutlets were just pink in the middle, and spread out in a star pattern over the pile of steamed veg. Flakes of lake salt dotted the plate's contents and gave it just the right look. He was really proud of what he'd done and filled two glasses with more wine, carrying them out first with some extra salt and pepper, and some mint sauce.

"Hey Babs, dinner's on the table!" He went back into the kitchen as he heard the wheels of her chair on the wood panel ramp, and grabbed the plates. When he came back through the door backwards, holding the plates so they wouldn't be jostled, he paused at the door, letting it close softly, then turned. She took his breath away. She was dressed in his favourite of her dresses. It was blue, black and silver, and hugged her body. The material was tight across her body, but left one shoulder bare, emphasizing the rippling muscles and tight cords of strength. Around her throat was a soft silk choker with a simple lovers knot at the side. Her hair was up, with a few scant ringlets artfully gracing her cheekbones like the shawl about her shoulders. Her legs were tilted and she wore high heels. She had a little smirk on her lips that had Dick suddenly forgetting who he was. Suddenly, he felt underdressed and unworthy. She was statuesque and picturesque and pretty damned amazingesque. Her smirk changed, showing her teeth as she silently laughed at his expression.

"Are we going to eat that, or are you trying for a statue pose of a waiter?" Her eyes were dancing in the candlelight and when he still couldn't break away, she began to blush, her hand going up to self consciously rub at her neck and tug her skirt down. He tore his eyes away and stared down at the plates, but only a moment had gone by, and they were still steaming fresh. He plated the meals, then looked down at himself and back up at her, running his hands over his the seat of his jeans and tugging at his singlet but she shook her head.

"Lets eat, huh? I just wanted to look nice for you, you don't need to wear a tux. We'd never get to eat… dinner." He couldn't reply yet, but his cheeks coloured in the candlelight and he took several deep breaths before replying.

"Mission accomplished, Babs… you're… breathtaking." Her smile was soft and intimate and she bit her lower lip and sighed.

"Roasted Lamb and Potatoes huh? I hear these are bad for you…" she smiled, digging in with relish. They continued to eat in silent companionship until the food was near gone, and Barbara was spearing the last of her cutlet as she savoured the flavours on the plate, swiping it across and gathering the juices and remnants of the vegetables.

"Meat and veg… what nations are built on," Dick quipped, some of his old spark returning. "How can it be bad for you?"

"Because it's delicious." She gave him a smile again and sighed in happiness as she chewed her final mouthful. Dick put down his fork and leant across to touch her wrist with his fingertips.

"So are you, and you're good for me." He stared into her eyes, conveying his feelings and meaning. Barbara swallowed and licked her lips, staring at him. The blush came back with a rush.

"Stop it, Dick." She smiled as she said it, her embarrassment clear, but he rubbed his thumb over her wrist and shook his head.

"No. actually, I don't think so. I'm tired, Babs, of always just being a joke around you. I'm tired of you thinking you don't matter to me. You do. You're everything to me, Barbara. You're more than important to me. You're a reason to BE me." He pushed his chair back and slid hers back as well, reaching down and lifting her into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder in the crook of his neck and breathed in deeply. He carried her to the bed and laid her down gentle, moving them up to the end of the unmade bed. His kisses sent fire over her again and his hands followed suit. He had always used his hands and body with her, she thought hazily, making love to her with his entire body, not just a part of him, but all of him. His lips touched her ear and his breath came hot against the rise of her neck, sending shivers all over her. She pushed him back, frazzled and took a long breath.

"My dress, I don't want to ruin it. It's your favourite."

"You're my favourite."

"Richard Grayson, you will undo my dress before this goes any further." She tried for authoritarian and failed, laughing at the absurdity of her statement and enfolding his shoulders in her arms. Dick's tongue flicked out between his lips and his half-lidded eyes rose a deeper need in her than before. Amusement flickered in their depths and he pulled back, rolling onto his side and taking her with him, moving her onto her stomach. Barbara complied and tucked her arms under her head as Dick straddled her thighs and gave her rump a rough stroke. He reached forward and found the zipper leading down the back of her dress and pulled on it slowly, unveiling the toned muscles of her back and following the trailing line with his open hand, running it down her spine. He lifted her up slightly, and moved his hands over her, shedding the dress from her to her waist and then running his fingers back over her body. He massaged her deeply, running his fingers over the back of her neck and up to the base of her scalp, gently moving the muscles beneath. Barbara let out soft sighs and moans, moving her neck and shoulders under his hands. It took a moment, and then he was lifting up her hips and peeling the dress down, taking off her shoes too when they caught on the dress. He folded the dress and put it on the chest at the base of the bed, then moved back to Barbara's waiting body. He discarded his singlet and jeans, suddenly as naked as she was and moving up her body again. His hands spread out over her body and deep into her muscles again, drawing circles in her skin and running his fingertips down her ribs, moving forwards to touch at the swell of her breasts and then back around again. Barbara moaned breathlessly at his long, drawn out touches, and her hands moved up to bunch her hair out of his way as he moved up. She was breathing deeply, moving her chest and shoulders under his touch and moaning softly to herself. It was the moving that got him, Dick realised as he felt himself beginning to harden. There was something so sinuous and sensual about her. She made his every sense come alive and reach for her.

"In me…" she breathed lowly. His hands stilled on her and she reached behind her, spreading herself wide for him and looking at him over her shoulder. "I need you so much right now…"

He eased inside of her slowly from behind, gasping and trying his best to control himself as he felt himself enveloped by her. Dick moved up her body again, pressing himself deeper inside of her until he lay fully atop her and sought her hands, holding onto the backs of her hands and interlocking his fingers. Barbara breathed heavily and pushed her head up against him, burying his face in her hair and moaning. Dick shut his eyes against everything she was making him feel and moved his head forward, finding where her shoulder ended and neck began and bit down possessively. She gave a cry and pushed them over towards the centre of the bed, on top of him and feeling his arms carrying her hands around to hold her down on top of him. Barbara lifted her head up and pushed her hair out of the way and Dick thrust upwards, feeling her on him and unable to stop himself. He moaned in her ear and she reached over their heads and grabbed at the iron bed head. She writhed her entire upper body while Dick's hands moved to her hips, holding her in position. She gave a moaned laugh through her open lips and felt Dick against her back, straining, feeling the hard muscles against her as he got closer. She wanted it to happen that way, she realised. She didn't care about who came first, she was losing control just thinking about him trying to not to come. Dick's arms moved from her hips, his legs spreading and holding her own between his, tightening her around him and forcing him to gasp. They found their rhythm soon enough again though, one of Richard's hands holding her against him by her chest and neck, and the other against her breasts, holding her down against him as he trust up. The hand on her neck felt rough and hard, yet he was light enough in his touch that she didn't for a second fear it. He was so possessive of her, wanting her utterly and showing her how much he wanted her that Barbara felt alive again and moaned loudly, playing to his desire. She felt herself flying on him and began to feel that intense pressure building.

"Just… more…please baby…" her gasps echoed lowly in the room, and suddenly Dick moaned a growl into her ear that had lightning sparking up her hips and back and began to push into her, harder and faster, losing the fine line of control he was keeping and pistoning himself in and out of her. Barbara threw her head back again and moaned loudly as the flying turned to falling then into that huge deep sense of warmth. Her thighs suddenly coated in them as Dick pulled too far and slammed, the sudden change triggering him and he gasped, gushing between her thighs and hitting the backs of her knees. He thrust several more times, then collapsed, and Barbara could feel her body shaking as the aftershocks moved through her. Dick didn't move for a moment, then gave another low laugh and cradled her. Barbara patted his hand and he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed. They lay like that in the suddenly cool air and Barbara felt him dripping down her thighs. She blushed to herself and patted his hand again.

"I know I'm ruining the mood, but I kind of need to go to the bathroom." Dick took a deep breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, but his smile was content. He moved back around her body and then reached down to pick her up. When she was in his arms, he stumbled and caught himself before they fell, then looked at her sheepishly as she alarmedly clung to him.

"Sorry. Legs are a bit weak at the moment." She laughed suddenly at him and then kissed his cheek.

"Welcome to my world." He frowned at her in admonishment but opened the bathroom door and moved them through. He helped her onto the toilet and she gathered her legs in front of her then looked at him, suddenly shy. Dick rose an eyebrow at her and then looked down at himself, holding out the arms that had been smeared by their climax.

"Privacy…? Really…? I'm kinda covered in… well, US, Babs…" The smile faded from her face and he was suddenly out the door. She hated doing that to him. She was so emotional this weekend, she thought. Everything that was happening was just so overwhelming. Dick was making her feel every tiny little moment by being romantic and memorable. She doubted there were movies as romantic as he was being. He was trying so hard to be perfect for her that it was working. He was also making her feel wholly inadequate as a person. How was she ever going to move on when it all came crashing down around them, she wondered. It was bound to happen. Dick was one of the prize catches of their little world. He was a girl's wet dream in tights, with a body that was as athletic as they come. Even Batman himself wasn't on par with Dick. Nightwing was a hero, a leader, and a friend, to most of the white knights in the world, or was a part of their lives. He needed to be what he was, and she would never get in the way of that. He was better at people than Batman, a better role model than Superman. He was the best of both their worlds in a smiling, handsome package. As soon as he realised it, he was gone, she knew. She knew she should tell him, too. But everything that Barbara had given to the mission over the years convinced her that she could have this one thing to herself, for just a while longer. She finished and cleaned up, calling for Dick as she hit the flusher, then used the rail and lifted herself into the shower. Dick came in when the water turned on and they showered. After a briefly funny moment when she was cleaning on the seat and he was washing his hair free of the sweat they'd worked up, Barbara was eye to groin with him and touched his thighs with a wide smile, watching him twitch and then grin at her. After they had finished and towelled, they moved back to bed and Dick blew the candles out. The room darkened and the bed was warm, and soon they were fast asleep, cradled in one another with Barbara wrapped in him tightly.

The next day went too quickly. She woke up in his arms and he refused to let her go until some serious heavy petting and kissing had taken place. She was smiling even as she called him a brute, and he was smiling with his bed-tousled hair and grin. His chin was scratching her by now, raking over her body when he pressed his chin in. Reminding him of his kayak promise, they moved downstairs quickly, having more fruit and plain oats. When she questioned on the lack of more "Dickesque" foods like bacon, eggs, chips and twinkies, his eyes sparkled at her.

"You need something to tell me off about, don't you? You enjoy it too much to not…"

With that in mind, he hit a lever in the laundry which led off from the kitchen and opened the door with the touch of a button. She ran over his bare foot to teach him for the telling off comment and then kissed his pout. Within a few minutes, the lever's purpose was revealed as the deep trench that ran beside the house filled with water. He helped her into the kayak and strapped her in, then grabbed her wheelchair, leaving her free to unlatch when she was ready. He was dressed in lycra shorts and a singlet, and had runners on, and looked ready to compete in a marathon. He kept tight sunglasses on as he folded up her wheelchair and jogged off with it. As she navigated the course, which was a lot more fun than it looked, with twisting lines and an underground cavern with blue lights running from the end of the driveway to the beginning of the fence. Once she was heading to the outlet, she moved onto a rubber conveyer belt that lifted the kayak and moved it up the side of hill to the top of the fence line. There was a deep rock pool there, which fed into another stream, leading down. Dick was sitting there with her wheelchair, and she moved over to him and he steadied the kayak with one outstretched hand and then gestured behind him. Running along the conveyer belt was a single path, all the way down the bottom of the hill at a steep gradient, which would have killed her shins had she still had the use of them. There was a winding path that led through a landscaped garden from the pool decking that Dick was standing on to the side of the house where they'd come out.

"If you're feeling insanely exercisey, which you have a tendancy to do, we can reverse the flow and activate the secondary pump at the bottom, which will mean you can go uphill and down the slide you just came up. But other than that, it's up to you. Maybe just get used to the course first?" She smiled and nodded, feeling excitement beginning to increase her heart rate. Dick smiled again and kissed her.

"Start from the laundry and I'll race you." He bounded off like an excited boy and Barbara felt that competitive drive begin as she manoeuvred down the hill. They prepped at the laundry station and Barbara held the oar across her, braced in a narrow section of the wind between two jutting poles. Dick raised an eyebrow at her and she beckoned him over with a grin and a crooked finger. The kiss they shared was long, and lingering, until Barbara moved her hand down from twirling in that thick hair, trailing down his body as he leant further over her, and the cupped him. Dick moaned against her mouth and his arms began to shake. Barbara could feel herself getting more and more intoxicated with the power she was wielding over him, and felt him thicken and harden in her hand.

"D-duh-diff-differing exercise in mind…?" he moaned against her again, and gasped as she ran a nail quickly around the thickening head of him. She squeezed him hard then and he growled deep in his throat.

"No." With that, she let go and the current swiftly took her downstream, away from him. Dick cursed and lost his footing, but sprang back up again from the icy water onto the rock he'd been perched on. He leapt to shore as Barbara whooped into the tunnel and pumped her arms, using the oars to guide her around the rocks and corners built into the track. She glanced back up at the retreating figure of Dick, his shirt slick against his body from the water but running up the hill as if it were a racetrack. He ran along, gliding across the landscape like a low flying robin before she rounded the corner. Her arms pumped madly as she urged the kayak along the conveyer belt, only to see Dick already at the rock pool and leaping down and rolling the interlying sections as if possessed. She'd had a forty foot head start on him going down the hill while he was heading up, but with the huge leaps he was taking, he'd catch up in no time. He flew passed her as she fumed at the slow pace of the conveyer belt, with nothing but a terse "hah!" directed her way. They kept going like that for about three hours until Barbara stopped at the pool to rinse her hair with the cool water. Dick came up to her in a few seconds and jumped in, tackling her over and flipping the kayak. She came up screeching with laughter and gasping at the same time while he unbuckled her from the kayak and dragged her over to him, swimming in his arms.

"No more running… I'm bushed for the moment…"

She raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief, but the truth was her own arms were tired as well. It was well passed lunch time by now, she thought, looking up through the trees at the winter sun. The icy water was making her feel tingly against the sun's faint warmth and Dick's arms. He dragged them through the water and shifted her onto the wheelchair. He dragged the kayak into an interlocking system near the entrance of the main stream, then locked it in with a lever identical to the one in the laundry and the lock came into place and the bubbling pump slowed to a stop. In the sudden silence, he turned to her and waved a hand at the decking.

"Sunbake?" She grinned at him and stretched her hands out, feeling her skin prickle as it dried in the sun.

"Tempting… Hmm. But that spa would be nice right about now on these aching muscles…" He scoffed at her plaintive tone and stretched out himself, taking off his singlet and ringing it dry. His body was still wet though, cascading droplet drawing her eyes as the sun shone from tiny diamonds all over his body.

"You look like Edward, all sparkly and stuff." Dick scoffed and leered at her.

"Yeah, honey, well Bella can't even see the league you're in, she's so far behind." The moved down the hill slowly, weaving through the garden and taking in the simple beauty of the day.

"Hah. I knew you liked it. You can pout all you like, Dick, but you're a Twihard. You don't like the idea of the damsel in distress? Funny position for a hero, short-pants…" He gave a laugh that started in his belly and then looked down at his lycra shorts and shrugged good naturedly.

"There's one thing that Buffy taught me, it's that sometimes, snuggling can come after ass-whupping, and that's for either side. Besides, look at you. You don't need me. You don't need anyone. Who the hell would mistake you for a damsel in distress?" Barbara felt herself thaw in his sudden sincerity, and gave him a soft, half-smile.

"Sometimes it's nice to be rescued. Even if I don't need it." He smiled to himself and shook his head, but something about it seemed forced. There was a sudden edge to him, and he cleared his throat, looking away.

"Babs," he said, like the words were being drawn out of him forcibly. "We need to talk."

"Don't ruin this, Dick, ok? Just let me keep this for a little while longer?" He nodded at her request, and the part that was dying inside of her quieted.

They headed inside and he peeled his clothing off in the laundry and threw it towards the machine with wet splats. Naked in front of her, he bent low and kissed her, her face beginning to blush somehow, regardless of all that had gone on between them. His brazen nakedness was arousing, as was his smile and still damp hair between her fingers. He took her own clothing as well and then put her back, naked, in the wheelchair and moved her back to the laundry wall and clipped the chair into the struts. He pushed a button on the side and she began to rise up the laundry wall with alarm.

"Dick…?"

"I'll see you up there!" he called, twisting a dial on the washing machine and hearing it beep, then seeing him run back out through the kitchen. Barbara for her part was confused, but went with it, the wheelchair moving up the side and then a door opening in front of her, revealing the upstairs ensuite shower and spa. Wheeling out, she moved down into the spa and hit the button, cascading a warm flow of water over her and moving herself to the jets to sit and stare. Her legs floated in front of her and she leaned back, watching Dick sashay in with a grin. She stared at him, raking her teeth over her bottom lip and laughing when he cocked a rebuking eyebrow at her.

"I know, I know… your eyes are up there," she laughed as she drew him down to her. They sat like that for some time, until both were pruney and happily massaged by the jets. The afternoon light began to fade and Dick roused himself from his light snooze, his arm about her shoulders and her body leaning into him.

"Any requests for tonight?"

"hmmm. A massage would be lovely, thank you."

"We've just turned into old passionfruit from water massage."

"You're seriously giving up a chance to be all touchy feely on me?"

"Bedroom or lounge?" She began to laugh, and cradled in, smelling the salt from the spa and the essence of him mixing with the steam around them.

This dream was different, but only barely. Normally it was Harley standing there with duct tape and super glue, and the Joker with the gun. He fired it and cackled at her as she broke apart in a jagged line like a cartoon egg across her waist. "You're broken!" he'd cry maniacally, followed by the tearing sound of duct tape and smathering of glue across her from a paint brush with Harley calling "You're fixed!" in that self same tone of voice. It would happen over and over again, and even though she was a robot or ceramic, she'd cry and sob every time because she could feel that self same punch to her stomach and then the loss of her legs afterwards. It wasn't as hard as the dreams of her legs asking her why she didn't want to dance anymore, but it was far more terrifying, seeing the Joker cackling evilly every time. This time though, it wasn't Harley trying to fix her only so the Joker could break her again. This time, it was Nightwing. This time, it was her Boy Wonder, gleefully tormenting her. "You're fixed! You're fixed! You're fixed! You're fixed! You're fixed!" She woke up, petrified as she stared into the darkness, unable to move. Her arms were clutched to her body in abject fear, and she slowly moved them down her body, lifting Dick's strewn arm from her and moving over to the chair. She slowly strapped herself in, then moved down the ramp, breathing laboriously and trying to calm her heart. The dream came all the time, just not on a regular basis. She might go a month without it, but then it would come at her every day for a week. She worked the tightness from her chest with deep breaths and stoked the fire at the base of the house, the flames stirring and lighting up a bit as she regained her calm.

It brought everything up again. All her insecurities, her pains and her fears. Dick might be smitten with her, but… she internalized it, analysing it, keeping it to her and taking apart the reasons behind the dream and what it meant. She knew, of course, that most of it was her own issues. But if Dick were to simply discard those as her subconscious playing on her fears, then he wasn't ready to face the reality of their situation. And the reality of their situation was painful and heartbreaking.

"Can't sleep?" Dick's steps were silent as he came down the walkway, dressed in pajama bottoms, his hair tousled from sleep, somehow making it better. With a dancer's grace he sat beside her and settled, quiet and waiting.

"This has been beautiful, Dick. Really, the best birthday present anyone could ever have gotten me. But I need to get back to reality. It's bad timing. This kind of happiness won't last. I had it for a few days and I'll keep it with me. But we need to face facts. You wanted to talk earlier, well, let's save ourselves the hassle, shall we?" He was silent and still, his dark eyes staring into the flames as he listed and thought of her cold tones and resolutely straight back, even if she was wearing a singlet top and tracksuit pants that sat so low on her hips that he could see his teeth marks from earlier.

"Why can't this be reality?" She looked down at her white knuckled hands and shook her head, but he shrugged and reached up, holding his hand over hers. The white knuckles disappeared under his gentle hold. "You're over thinking, oh-so-surprisingly… We're the easiest thing in the world, Babs. You just have to believe that we'll be okay. Trust that we will be, because we'll be fine. We just… this is as real as we can get"

"That's just it, Dick, this is never going to be some weird little idyllic romance between superheroes, okay? We have a good thing going, a good understanding that lends itself perfectly to our lifestyles. I get what I want, you get what you want. We don't slow each other down, because we're not obsessed with all that couple-y stuff that others do, like going away for the weekend to a beautiful place and acting like this is a real relationship. We don't tie one another down; we don't make one another vulnerable!" Dick didn't say anything, but his head lowered and he let go of her hands. She tilted her fingers up to catch his hand again, but missed as he clasped his hands in front of him. "Look, let's not… Dick, this is really sweet, okay, but you've got no idea what you're asking, what you're getting yourself in for. This, us, is perfect as it is, we're both fine… we don't need to ruin it, let's just…"

His pain radiated off him in waves and she sat, uncomfortable as he stared unmoving into the flames.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice low and soft. "I'm worried about you." She shook her head and fixed her glasses, her hands in her lap again.

"Why?"

"Because you're depressed, Babs. You're really depressed. I see it every time you lie to me with your eyes and put on the happy face so that no one knows how hurt you are and you just pretend that everything is fine. You don't think I see that? I know you. I see you. We've been in each other's lives for as long as we've known what that meant, and I've always tried to respect that you want your own life. I get that, I do, Babs."

"Well then lets lay all the cards on the table, then, Grayson. Do you know what its like watching you flit around and flip like some twelve year old Romanian girl when it takes a full twenty minutes for me to work out my bathroom plan? Do you have any idea what it's like to see you do handstands and vault over things and just fly all the time, when I can't? It's like you're rubbing it in my face all the time, and how am I supposed to take it otherwise? It's not rational, it just IS."

"Yeah, well I want to do things with you. Go to the park, go to a restaurant, go to the movies, but you're Oracle all the time and that means computer screens and fighting crime and being a part of this screwed up existence where the head of the family is a control freak psychopath that doesn't laugh even when he's doing the only thing in the world that brings him satisfaction! And because you never leave that world, that's all we have!"

"Then get yourself a whole person, Dick." He gave a short bark of frustration and snarled wordlessly.

"Dammit, Babs, you're so defensive. We could DO all those things if you gave us half a chance! You've got this steel cage around you that nobody can get through and nobody can penetrate. But you're wrong, Barbara, because I know you. I'm in there. I know I am because I lo…"

"Don't!" The stillness around them hardened in an instant as she held her hand up to him. His eyes stilled in the darkness of the firelight, and his shoulders slumped. Great, she thought to herself. The puppy dog face, just what I need…

"Look, hero, this is really amazing, what you've done. And one day, some lucky girl is going to get you for the rest of your life and it's going to be perfect. But I've got my own little world of screens and me, and I'm strong there. You can't… I just… want to go back home now. I'm sorry. I'm taking myself home before I ruin everything." He didn't stop her, the look on his face was beyond pain, and she could feel the tears starting to rise behind her glasses. Outside was dark and stormy, the afternoon's promised rain filling the valley and dousing the outside to the dark droplets. Dick opened his mouth several times to answer her, but his eyes were dark with pain and anger, and he kept control of himself. She stared at him, almost seeing his emotions play out across his eyes. Maybe it was for the best, she thought. To leave it this way, even if it meant leaving them apart. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about it like this, every day. That it was going to happen. She'd prepared herself, and loved the time they'd spent, but knew it was only fleeting. She just never had imagined that he'd go so far. She stared at him.

"It was still sweet, but it's a grand romantic gesture from a hopeless romantic but everything about it shows me that you see me as disabled first, and Barbara second."

"You're fucking joking." Dick's sudden venom crashed into her musings and with a flinch, she realized that she'd spoken the last out loud. His face was shocked and betrayed, as, well, she'd hurt him beyond anything he'd had done to him previously.

"You can be a real judgemental bitch, do you know that? Don't you realize the emotional whiplash you drag me through? This is getting beyond a joke. One minute you love me and we can't keep our hands off one another, and the next I'm just infatuated and still a little boy, or better yet, I'm a man just using you for sex. The moment after that, I'm a kid with a crush that doesn't know any better, or we're just having fun sex and it's a working arrangement, and then this and then that and then this… Why can't you just see, Barbara? See me like I see you! Are you so blinded and wrapped up in your self pity that you can't for a second think that maybe this is about something more than rehashing out great memories of when we were younger and everything was simple and worked…?"

Barbara pushed past him and dashed her tears away angrily, down the ramp and out the door, furiously pushing the wheels along and suddenly caught in the storm outside as she moved to her car. She reached down into the side of her wheelchair and grabbed the key, opening the door and sobbing in anger to herself.

Dick paused for half a heartbeat and then swore, swinging open the door and following her out into the rain. She was almost at the car when he stopped as the rain pounded down around them, deafening them both.

"What do you think I see in you?" His voice bounced off the side of her car and she shrugged, still fumbling with the key in her stress then finally whirling around in her wheelchair and gesturing angrily at herself, then throwing her arms wide.

"Fucked if I know, Dick, apparently nothing…."

"Well what about me, Barbara? What about what I feel? I hate the way you shove me away because you're too scared to take the leap with me. You think I want to take care of you, want to be there for you, want to… this isn't a hero complex, Babs, I do it because I want to do it, not for any reward, but because I want to do things for you, I…I want… for fuck's sake, Babs, you really don't know why I'm so in love with you? It's not because you used to be Batgirl. That doesn't come into it, not even on the edge. I've never cared that you used to be anything, or that you're paralyzed. Every relationship has challenges, do you think that I don't know what I'm getting into after all this time together? I'll tell you why I love you, Babs. Because you're resourceful. You're strong. You don't put up with any bullshit. You're smarter than me but you don't lord it over me. The way you laugh and cover your mouth when you're shaking your head at me. The way you stop and touch a book that you love when you're putting it away, like you're thanking it for letting you read it. I love the way you take care of me, even when I've done something stupid. I love the way you brush your hair. I love the way you know me and you always have. You connect with me. All that grime, all the blood and the pain and the fear and everything that clings at me when I'm on those streets, that all goes away when I'm with you. You give me wings." He inhaled deeply and stared at her. Barbara had never seen his eyes flash that way before, with the deep hurt and an intensity that didn't merely shake her, but caught her like wildfire. He held his arms wide and threw his head back to the rain, and breathed in deeply.

"Do you smell that? You're that scent to me. When it just starts to rain, and the whole forest; every tree, every bush, every single scent in the whole forest opens up to take the water in; that's what you're like to me. You are the reason I'm alive." Barbara felt her chest shaking, her lips parted as she stared at him. The pants clung to him, wet and soaking, and his chest, slicked with rain, was steaming slightly in the cold. He knelt in front of her wheelchair and took her hands in his, staring into her eyes. Barbara could feel the tears crawling across her cheeks and ducked her head, futilely clinging to the vestiges of her own hurt as she admitted finally how deeply Dick cared for her, and it terrified and exhilarated her all at the same time.

"That… that's not… it doesn't…I'm just not…" she tried, but the words wouldn't come up. Dick reached up and cupped her face in his hands and tilted her up to look at him. His eyes searched for and found hers, and suddenly, he broke her with his smile. Her eyes shimmered and teared and didn't stop, pouring down her face as she stared at him.

"All those reasons, that I love you?" He smiled at her in amusement and then frowned at her over his smile in a mild rebuke. "Do you honestly think any of them have changed now that you're in a wheelchair? You're still all those things and more, which just means that I love you all that much and more, too." She was breaking in a million different ways, now, feeling her soul break and shatter and explode inside of her with what he was saying. Barbara took a deep, shuddering breath and he shook his head, moving a single thumb across her lips to silence her. "You think a relationship should be about equality and partnership? Well I do too, but the truth is, we've NEVER been equals, Barbara Gordon." Her head jolted up out of his hands and pain crashed in again in the wake of her sudden fall from euphoria. Her mind snapped back and anxiety exploded across her mindscape.

He thinks less of me now because I can't do the things he can do anymore, I'm not Batwoman anymore, I can't… Her frantic thoughts stopped as suddenly as they'd begun when he spoke again.

"But I'm catching up, slowly…" Stunned tears burst forward and Barbara gave a huge sob. He was in awe of her. Of her, Barbara Gordon, he was in awe, that is he felt that she was more than him. She suddenly wanted to crush him to her and reassure him, to make him know just how incredible he was despite the doubt. And that was the crux of it, she admitted to herself. She wanted him to know how amazing he was and that he deserved the best. He was trying to show her that exact same thing. He really did love her. Her hands shook as she reached for him wordlessly. The rain pelted down on them, but for that moment, it was all about how they held one another. Dick picked her up in his arms, effortlessly lifting her closer to him and moving back inside. He sat her down in front of the fire and leant her up against him, wiping away the water with the blanket he drew from the couch. The heat from the fire began to steam the water from his side and his hair as he continued to dry her tenderly. Her rain slicked hair moved across her forehead and she stared at him, her breath coming from a million miles away. She just couldn't make her voice work. He continued rubbing her, drying her off against him until she stopped shaking. She stared at him, the way the droplets of water ran down and collected at the tips of his hair, the way his eyes were flickering and flashing in the low light of the fire. His body, against hers, cradling her and supporting her. He blew on her fingers and kissed the tips in that way of his that showed her just how precious he though her.

"You called me a bitch." Her voice was raw from the breathing and the cold, but at least she got the words out. Dick flicked his head and the water hit the iron grate guarding the open flame with a hiss.

"Yeah, well, you kick my ass in a million different ways, Babs, so I had to get a shot or two in there somewhere…" He trailed off and smiled and Barbara felt like an idiot as she felt something in her chest begin to somersault again. The butterflies were doing gymnastics while spontaneously combusting. "And you always will, so…"

She smiled at him then, and cradled his face in her fingertips gently. He trailed off, lost for words, and stayed very still. She kissed him in a kind of new wonderment, feeling the softness of his lips against hers and the sweetness of his breath. The moisture in her hair swam her scent all around him and he couldn't stop melting in to her for a moment. His hand touched the back of her head gingerly, gently cupping a handful of her hair and running it through his fingers as they kissed. Tiny flicks of one another's tongue darted out, licking at the lips and then their arms encircled one another. Dick pulled her tightly to him and laid back on the ground, with Barbara more than happy to lie across his body and move herself over him. Dick eased his head back to look at her, but she laid a thumb across his lips as he'd done to her and then kissed him. "Don't speak. Not yet. Just listen." She kissed him again, and he nodded against her lips, nipping gently at her lip as they lay there, content in the warmth from the fire. Eventually, Barbara pulled back and looked very seriously at his face. She didn't speak for a long moment, but studied him, imagining him older, and if he'd be the sort of person that would stay with her, through it all. And realised that he already had. Around them was the home he had built, thinking of her in every design and every detail. And couldn't imagine anyone else that would be as devoted to her as what he had been. As he was. And even if none of that were true, Barbara knew that she was through lying to herself. She loved him.

"I'm so sorry, Dick. For everything I've put you through, and I guess for everything I will put you through. I'm sorry. I love you." A tear escaped her eyes and ran across her smile and she leant down to kiss the sudden concerned look on his face and laughed, dashing away the tear with a hand and pushing herself up off him, dragging him up to sit against her.

"Take me to the bathroom, Boy Wonder. And then get my chair in from the rain. Okay?" He smiled against her, and again came that butterfly flip in her chest. His enthusiasm for her was not only infectious, but energizing. He rose again as if it was as easy as breathing and carried her to the bathroom. She quickly relieved herself and checked her reflection. Her eyes were puffy, her hair was a mess and she looked like shit. And he couldn't keep his hands off her. The man was going to turn her into a gooey pile of mush. She did her best to make herself presentable and brushed her teeth, wanting to at least make herself appealing. The blanket draped around one shoulder, her hair over the skin as she brushed it, and then he was back. Dick stood in the doorway of the bathroom and stared at her. His eyes didn't just run up and down her, they drank her in. There was something about the way he looked at her as if she were the most precious thing he'd ever seen, and it didn't want to touch her for fear of marking her. She smiled at the look, and at him, as he leaned against the bathroom door and gave a low laugh.

"You're really something else, Babs, you know that?" She tucked her shoulder in under his scrutiny and felt herself blush and smile so hard that her cheeks hurt.

"I can't think straight when you say stuff like that, Dick." She laughed softly and then arched an eyebrow at him over her shoulder playfully. He pushed off the doorway, his acrobat's body a strong and supple, incredible physique as he moved towards her. He scooped her up in his arms, around her shoulders and under her legs as they made their way back to the bedroom. He laid her out on the bed and lit the other fire as she moved under the covers. The thick doona had kept the lingering warmth of the day, and as the sun was setting, the evening's chill was also draping about the house. Far back in the loft bedroom, Barbara could survey the entire layout and leaned up in the bed to look at him again. Flushed and feeling the hunger go through her, Barbara watched him make his way about the room, lighting some candles to soften the flickering of the fire. As he rounded the bed, she looked up at him, her hair falling behind her head to one side and jutted a shoulder forward at him. She looked at his pants and could see his arousal through them.

"You won't… need those…" she breathed staggeringly at him. Dick swallowed and complied, pushing his pants down and stepping out of them and then into the bed. His body against hers was suddenly not enough, she wanted more, but Dick held her and moved to lay against her, pulling her body against his and tilting his legs to encircle hers. There was a vague sensation of pressure as his thigh slid between hers, and then he reached down and pulled her over his own, scissoring their legs together. His hand trailed back up, lining little trails of fire across her skin from her hips upward. She lightly grazed her nails across his chest, feeling him breathing heavier as he got closer to her. He kissed at her chin, capturing her lips and then making her moan as he engulfed her, his arms around her chest and crushing her to him. Their passion took over and her arms held him tightly against her, not wanting the kiss to end. The fire crackled and heat began to soar in the room as Barbara pulled at his hair and rolled on top of him, covering Dick with her body and feeling their tongues touching as they tried to devour one another. The fire suddenly caught, throwing bright yellow light against them and Barbara pushed herself up, straddling him. This weekend had been all about her. There was one last thing she wanted, more than anything. Dick moved her legs aside him and grabbed hold of her hips, sending shockwaves of desire through her with his intensity. He was close to losing it, she knew. She could see that in him. There was a raggedness to him, an edge away from lost control. She had made him like this, she thought, staring down at him. No make up, puffy eyes, dried lips and messed hair and she was driving him out of control. She could smell her own arousal, and for a second she was ashamed, but Dick's breathing was intensifying, if that were possible, and he growled deep in his throat. Barbara swallowed her nerves and reached up, dragging her hair down forward in loose tendrils about her face, staring at him through the loose strands. Dick's neck muscles were bulging from the strain he was somehow under, and he was clenching his teeth. Barbara reached up and brazenly began to play with her nipples, as Dick's eyes fastened on her and held her, the dark light in their depths something that set fire to her entire body, making her feel hot and tingly at the same time. Barbara's mouth parted and her breathing, slow and steady, faltered as she took his hands and placed them on her hips. "Rock me" she breathed, and he leaned up, grabbing at her, but Barbara pushed him back down, her hands on his shoulders, keeping herself up and off him. Her hair fell in his face and for almost a second, he nipped at it, then struggled back, obviously trying to keep in control. Barbara was driving him crazy, but not over the edge yet. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and reached back, balancing herself with one hand on his sweating abs and feeling for him with her other. Dick gasped when she groped at him, grabbing him and moving him towards her. She could feel a hot mess between her thighs with her hand and guided him into her. Dick gasped and shook his head feebly, gritting his teeth and arching up into her arms, her hand slipping off his abs and catching at him as he rocked up and grabbed her about her waist with both arms, his face crashing to her chest. He was suddenly covered in sweat and shook his head at her. Barbara caught her lip in a smile and nodded to him, kissing him playfully and in full control of his body. The fire beside them was throwing out a heat that she found intoxicating, knowing that Dick wanted her so much just made it feel better. Feeling the pressure building inside of her, she pushed Dick back down again, and offered him her nipples, which he took between his teeth and rolled, flicking them with his tongue as she gasped against him. Grabbing at the railing bed head, Barbara began to push down and Dick moaned unintelligibly. She shook herself on the bed head and pushed down again, feeling Dick squirming under her. He gagged on a gasp and his suddenly shaking hands gripped at her. He reached up under her arms and went for her face, but she merely caught at his fingers and sucked them as she rocked herself further on his body. Dick gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, then threw his hands behind him and gripped the railing with one hand and her hip with another. He thrust up into her and heat began to bloom inside of her as he began to shake and pant, the muscles on his body working, flushing him with colour against the firelight. He was trying so hard to make it last, but Barbara no longer cared. Her whole world shook for a moment, and then released in waves of pure light across her body. Pleasure waves rocked her and she tensed, rocking against him one more time, but he couldn't hold back and gave a strangled roar as she fell against him, burying his face in her breasts. Dick's entire body was tensed up, every muscle straining as he started, jetting streams of cum up and over them. Barbara felt him vaguely shaking under her as she recovered from her own explosion, feeling the waves rock against her again and again, spinning her concentration deliciously out of control. They breathed against one another for moments, and then Dick tensed and gave a quick moan. He cleared his throat and nosed her chin over, kissing at her lips. Barbara smiled against him and kissed him, feeling everything all at once and smiling.

"You want to marry me." He gave a low laugh against her throat and then kissed her again, his lips moving over the hollow of her throat and tongue flicking against her sweat.

"So what if I do?" It took a moment for her senses to follow what had been said, and she arched back, looking at him and his half lidded eyes as he smiled at her, absolutely content.

"Dick…" She moved her hand, rocking him to get his attention. His eyes snapped back into focus and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"Yeah, Babs, I know, baby steps. But one day you'll get it. I love you, all of you, as you are, and never less because of anything. You can hate me, throw me away and stomp me, I don't give a shit. I'm yours, and you're stuck with me." Barbara cradled herself against his chest and listened to his heartbeat for a while, his arms around her and his breath slowly teasing her fringe.

"What if… I married you?" To his credit, he didn't react straight away, but instead waited and thought about it.

"You want to know what would change?" She nodded, not looking at him, but instead staring at his chest, through her fingers. "I think with us, it's a special circumstance. Being who we are." She didn't move from his chest, and felt him rest his cheek against the top of her head and his arms tightened slightly around her.

"So you'd introduce me to everyone as your wife?" She could feel his smile as he understood the possessive nature of what she was saying and then shrugged against her.

"Nah, I'd be more like introducing myself as your husband." She laughed lowly against him and felt his rhythmic breathing stretch out under her body. "I don't know what would change, Babs. I guess to be honest, it's just a long term thing, you know? I don't think us getting married would mean anything, and yet at the same time, it would mean everything, if that makes sense?" She took a deep breath of him and sighed, then moved her head up to his. Her fair fell to the side and a quick flash of that grin came and tickled her at the base of her spine. She kissed him and tenderly touched the chiseled jaw and felt his breath quicken against her.

"Yeah. Actually, I know exactly what you mean. I love you." He smiled again and kissed her slowly, savoring her taste and everything about her. His smile was full of hope and excitement and satisfaction.

"About time, Mrs Graydon…"

Fin.


End file.
